Citadel Date
by Arkrai
Summary: Garrus and Dr Michel finally go on a date
1. Chapter 1

**Citadel Date**

Garrus fidgeted uncomfortably. The soft collar of his formal outfit caused a slight irritation on his neck. It was too soft. Garrus had grown accustomed to wearing battle armour day in day out, even sometimes sleeping in it. The last three years hadn't left much room for luxury.

But Shepard had insisted that he could not go on a date in his armour, and had sent Garrus shopping with Tali and Liara to find something suitable.

He checked the mirror again, and did have to admit that he looked good, the suitable appearance of a dashing turian and suave turian military operative. A dark blue undershirt, with a lighter jacket, trimmed in green and with a gold piping. Matching pants, and new boots.

Almost involuntarily, he put up a hand to the side of his face, running it along the mass of scar tissue that remained. It had been almost a year since Tarak's missile had blown half his face off in the escape from Omega. The doctors had done what they could, but the scars remained, and he still got pains occasionally.

_Hopefully Chloe had a thing for turians with scars_, he thought.

Garrus felt…what was that delightful human expression..butterflies in his stomach. He hadn't been on a date in over five years, not since leaving Palaven to join C-Sec. He drifted back to that time. Alla had been with him for six years when he left. But he wanted to please his father and join C-Sec, and she was unwilling to leave Palaven. So they separated.

His time on the Citadel had been lonely and frustrating. It had been difficult to bond with his fellow officers, and he frequently was caught up in Citadel red tape preventing him from doing what he wanted to solve crimes. The shining light during that time had been his friendship with Chloe Michel, the human doctor down in the Wards.

Garrus hadn't known any humans when he first arrived on the Citadel, vaguely holding to the turian cultural perception of them as impatient, hot headed upstarts without proper respect for discipline and tradition. Chloe had started to change that perception in him. His time with Shepard had shattered it to pieces.

They had first met when, after a run in with armed thieves in a nearby locale, Garrus had staggered into her clinic in urgent need of medical treatment. Dr Michel had treated his injuries, and they struck up conversation, with the human woman proving to be warm, kind and patient, with a wicked sense of humour. They had quickly become firm friends.

She had been a sympathetic ear many a time when Garrus, fed up with C-Sec red tape, had needed to vent his frustration, and many times provided useful advice, or information regarding life in the Wards. And, as it turned out, she had wanted more.

Garrus almost shuddered in embarrassment at the thought. Everyone else had seen it – Shepard and Tali, Liara and Kaidan. Even EDI. All the sly remarks over the years that he had never picked up on. The notes and presents from the doctor that he never thought to question.

And finally, fed up with his obliviousness, she had asked HIM out. And he had said yes. It wasn't like he had a thing for other species – unlikely many turians he wasn't xenosexual. But with Chloe? Maybe, just maybe that could work.


	2. Chapter 2

Garrus sat, waiting at a table outside Zakera Café. The best food on the Citadel. The view was magnificent as well, looking out over deep space from near the top of the Presidium. And his date was running late.

They had agreed to meet at the Café at 7 Citadel Time. It was now 7.20 and there was no sign of her. The delay had only increased his nervousness. Was it deliberate or was she simply delayed? Why hadn't she called him?

And then, suddenly, she was there. Garrus' jaw dropped, well, as much as a turian jaw could be said to drop.

Gone was the practical work garb and medical coat that she wore when he visited her at the hospital. Gone to were the casual, comfortable tee and jeans she normally wore on their outings. Instead, Chloe was wearing a stunning silver dress, falling almost to her knees and seeming to shift hue as she moved.

Ashley had been very clear on human signals. The dress was cut _just_ low enough to induce enticement while maintaining the allure of mystery. She was stunning. As she drew nearer, Garrus caught the scent of perfume. _Turian_ perfume. She knew what she was doing.

'Good evening Garrus.' Her voice was pleasant as always, lilting slightly, and with a trace of the accent showing her French origins back on Earth. 'Sorry I'm late.'

'Chloe,' he managed. Inwardly, Garrus was pleased that turians didn't blush.

She took a seat. The salarian waiter approached and took their orders. The café catered for both levo and dextro species, and Garrus ordered a dextro steak, while she chose a seafood dish.

'How was your day?' he asked, mentally running thorough the list of conversation starters that Shepard had drilled into him and inwardly groaning at the memory of a night out with the Commander, who had been bemused at Garrus' lack of success.

'Busy, as always. There's always more casualties from the war coming in. Huerta's not an exclusive Presidium hospital anymore – we're treating patients from all over the galaxy. Sometimes, it's like being back in the Wards clinic.'

'You don't mind?'

'No. Being at Huerta was nice – always having enough resources and supplies, not having to scrounge to be able to treat someone; but now I'm helping a lot more people, making a small contribution to the war effort. What about you? Enjoying some downtime after the coup?'

It had been two weeks since Shepard and the _Normandy _crew had put down the attempted coup by Cerberus and Councillor Udina. Every day since, Garrus had spent in the refugee camp, helping the relief effort, co-ordinating supplies, and most of all, looking for any sign of his family.

Evidently it showed. 'Still no word from your father?'

'No, I haven't heard from them since I left Palaven before the Reapers hit.' Garrus cut himself off. This was a date. 'Wait, let's not discuss this. This is a date. Let's talk about something else.'

'OK, what if we were to pretend we don't know each other?'

That was better. That he could manage.

'Good evening, I'm Garrus Vakarian. Chloe, is it?'


	3. Chapter 3

'Good evening Garrus. Yes, I'm Chloe. Chloe Michel.'

'So, Chloe Michel, tell me about yourself?'

She smiled, 'Well, I was born on Earth, in the region known as France. When I was still a child, my family moved to the colonies – New Paris on Fehl Prime. When I finished schooling, I got a scholarship to study medicine here on the Citadel.'

'So you're a doctor?' Garrus asked, enjoying the pretence.

'Yes. I'm now head physician at Huerta Memorial Hospital, but I did my training in the Wards, and I ran a clinic in the Upper Wards for a few years. And how about you, Garrus? What's your story?'

'Hmm. I was born on Palaven My father was a C-Sec detective, and before that, he had been a fighter pilot. My mother was an intelligence officer.'

'I guess that makes you a military brat then?'

'Well, almost every turian is. Military service is compulsory. I was a marine for 10 years, before I followed my father into C-Sec.'

'You're still with C-Sec?'

'No, not anymore. I with them for five years before I got fed up with all the red tape. So then I signed up on a mad quest with this human Spectre. I hear he's kind of famous now.'

'Wow, you worked with Commander Shepard?'

'That's right. I was there when he took down Saren and when Sovereign was destroyed. Then I helped him again a few years later, destroying the Collector base. Now, well, I'm still working with him, and I'm also a special advisor to the turian Primarch regarding the Reaper War.'

'You know, I had an encounter with the Commander once. It was shortly before he became a Spectre…'

The rest of the date went well. Afterwards, they said goodbye to each other at the transit station – Garrus returning to his berth on the _Normandy _and she to her apartment.

'Goodnight Chloe.' Garrus hesitated, unsure of what to do next. She took the initiative, leaning and touching her forehead to his. The turian gesture of intimacy. And then, just before pulling away, she brushed her soft, lips against his inflexible turian mouthparts. The human gesture.

'Goodnight Garrus. I had a lovely evening.


End file.
